


You Can't Get What You Want, But You Can Get Me

by darkjaden825698



Series: I Want To Know What Love Is [2]
Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brothers, Canon Continuation, Drifter Sean Diaz, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Mentions of Prison, Police Brutality, Post-Canon, post-redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26896450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkjaden825698/pseuds/darkjaden825698
Summary: So let's set out to sea, 'cause you are my medicine when you're close to me.It's been six months since Sean and Finn started traveling together, and Sean is starting to feel discontent. After a traumatic experience, Sean makes a decision: he wants to find somewhere to stay, a real home. And after spending some much-needed time with his younger brother, Sean thinks he knows where.Title from On Melancholy Hill by the Gorillaz, but I'm sure y'all knew that one already.Sequel toPlease, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want
Relationships: Daniel Diaz & Finn (Life is Strange 2), Daniel Diaz & Sean Diaz, Sean Diaz/Finn
Series: I Want To Know What Love Is [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962382
Kudos: 23





	You Can't Get What You Want, But You Can Get Me

**Author's Note:**

> WOO It's finally up! This fic has been finished for probably about a month now, but I kept wanting to take one last look over it before posting. I worked really hard on this one, and am really proud of it. :D So I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> And yes, this is part of a series now! The title of it is called "I Want to Know What Love Is" because I'm fucking cheesy like that, and because of the common theme of "want" in the titles, all from song names. As yes, they will all have ridiculously long titles I'm sorry. I'm planning on writing a third one after this, but that won't happen for quite a while. Anyway, thanks a bunch for the support, and thank you to my amazing beta El_Bracco.

For Sean, the best (and really one of the only good) things about living out of his car is the sound of the rain drumming against the hood. That light, rhythmic tapping somehow syncs with his breathing, or maybe his breathing syncs with the rain, and Sean can just close his eyes, turn the radio down low, and imagine he’s back in his childhood bedroom, listening to the rain patter against the roof.

These fantasies never last, though, as something always rips him from the past and back to reality. Today, it’s the buzzing of his cell phone, vibrating strongly in the cupholder next to him. He picks it up, and sees a text from Finn.

_ Hey, hot stuff. I’m just leaving the store. I’ll be back in a little bit. _

_ Good, _ Sean replies.  _ I’m fucking starving. Get your ass back here so we can eat. _

_ Oh, but my ass isn’t on the menu tonight, sweetheart, _ Finn sends back, and Sean has to laugh.

_ We’ll see about that. _

It’s been almost six months since he and Finn got together, and after spending a few nights in Chicago, they decided to leave together. Both in their separate vehicles, of course, because, being real here for a moment, Finn has  _ so _ much fucking crap in his car. He’s got literal junk in his trunk. If they were to try and consolidate down to one car, Sean would have to lose about 20 pounds himself just to fit.

So they drive separately, which is actually really nice for moments like this, when they so desperately need groceries, but Sean just wants to nap in the rain. He’s parked outside an old campsite in New Jersey, one that probably hasn’t been used in decades, but he’s just going to sleep in his car tonight, most likely. It can get surprisingly cozy, especially when he puts the seat all the way back, and  _ especially _ when Finn’s wiry figure curls up next to him, and his face nuzzles right into the crook of Sean’s neck. Finn usually crowds Sean up against the door when they cuddle in his car, but it still beats sleeping under a bridge, and Finn’s warm body slumbering softly next to him makes it all worth it, anyway.

Sean must doze off eventually, because he’s jolted awake by a pounding on his window. It’s not overly aggressive, but it’s harder than Finn’s usually gentle taps, so he knows it isn’t him. This puts him straight into panic mode, flashing him back to that night in Nevada.

His heart starts pounding, and his eyes snap open. The sun is mostly set, but there’s a blinding light in his face that makes him squeeze his eyelids shut. The rain has picked up considerably, turning that light tapping into a full-on drum roll. When he finally has the sense to shield his good eye from the light outside his window, he can make out the foggy silhouette of someone standing beside his driver’s side door. Once his eye finally adjusts to the light, the silhouette grows the features of a sturdy man in a blue uniform.

A cop.

Sean’s heart lurches.

He’s had run-ins with cops before on his cross-country road trip—usually telling him to move his car because he’s parked somewhere he’s not allowed—and it always freaks him out a little bit. Or a lot bit. It’s easier with Finn around, to keep him grounded, but Finn still isn’t back yet, which already has him feeling a little worried. 

The cop is looking at him expectantly, so Sean rolls down the window. “I-is there a problem, officer?”

“License and registration, please.”

Sean takes a deep, centering breath. He notes the cop’s body language—defensive, but not scared. His thumbs are hooked through his belt loops, not anywhere near his gun. That’s a good sign; he’s probably not about to turn on him on a dime. Still, it never hurts to be careful.

“Okay,” he makes a point of saying. Always respond quickly and calmly. Never be aggressive. “It’s in my wallet in my back pocket.”

“Alright.” The officer looks annoyed. “So get it out.”

With his left hand visible in the air, Sean slowly reaches back to dig his wallet out, making sure the officer can see it as he opens it up and pulls out his papers. He hands them through the window and sits back as the officer returns to his squad car. Sean tilts his head to see the cop plugging Sean’s information into the computer. God, what, is he checking for an arrest warrant or shit?  _ You’re not gonna find anything, dude, _ Sean thinks. He hasn’t committed a single crime since his release from prison, save for maybe the occasional loitering. There’s no way he was going to risk going back to jail. No fucking way. 

The officer returns and holds Sean’s license in his hand, tapping it against the palm of the other. “Sir, does this car belong to you?”

“Wh—yes? Of course it does.”

“Mhm.” The cop presses the license to his chin, then points it back at Sean. “Well, my records say it was reported stolen yesterday.”

“What?! That’s bullsh—that’s impossible.”

“Sir, would you step out of the vehicle, please?”

“Excuse me?”

“Step out of the vehicle,” the cop repeats, more forcefully this time. Sean notices his stance change to something a bit more aggressive, so Sean submits. He throws his arms up and carefully opens the door and steps outside.

The cop looks directly into his face. Sean’s an inch or so taller than him, but the cop’s commanding presence makes up for his lack of height. Sean can’t see much more than that right now, though, with the blinding beams of the headlights flooding his already limited vision with a painful, white light.

“Keep your arms up,” the cop says. Like Sean can even more right now. The cop closes in and starts to frisk him, and the moment his hands touch Sean’s sides, Sean flinches, and the officer holds him in place with his firm fingers. “Hold still.”

Sean might actually start crying, and wouldn’t that just be the shit icing on the dirt-flavored cake?

“What seems to be the problem here, officer?”

The cop turns his head, but Sean already knows it’s Finn. He hadn’t even heard him pull up, his heart was pounding so hard. His shoulders release just a little bit of tension, knowing that Finn is here.

“This car was reported stolen last night. Your friend here—”

“Boyfriend, actually,” Finn interrupts.

“What?”

“He’s my boyfriend. You got a problem with that?”

“N-no, of course not.”

“And this car ain’t stolen either, so I think you might want to check again. Unless you want all of my Instagram followers to hear that you racially profiled a disabled queer man, Officer 2267.” Finn casually reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, with the camera pointed directly at the cop. “Oh, I guess they already did.” He turns the phone to show Finn’s Instagram Live feed, currently broadcasting everything.

The officer grumbles and shoves past Finn’s shit-eating grin to return to his car, and punches Sean’s information back into the computer. Sean doesn’t turn his head to watch, but even over the pounding rain he can hear the aggressive clacking of keys. His gaze settles on Finn though, who shoots him an easy, encouraging smile. Fuck, it’s so easy for him. Sean is scared shitless just speaking to a cop, and Finn can just come in here and save his ass like a literal white knight.

Moments later, the cop returns with a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry about that, Mr. Diaz,” he says, handing Sean back his license. “I guess it wasn’t your car, it was just one with a similar description. You’re free to go.”

Sean manages to choke out, “Th-thank you,” before the cop heads back to his car, though not without Finn chastising him the entire time.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,  _ officer, _ ” he says, camera still pointed directly at him even as he drives off.

Once the cop is gone, Sean collapses. His jeans are getting all muddy, but he just can’t stay upright anymore. His knees were getting weaker by the second, and he was trying so damn hard to stay standing, to not show the officer any weakness. To remain calm. But now that he’s gone, now that it’s just him and Finn, he can’t keep it up anymore.

Finn is immediately at his side, with his arms around him, squeezing him so fucking tightly. Sean falls into Finn and cries into his shoulder.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Finn soothes, rubbing Sean’s back gently. “He’s gone now, babe. He can’t hurt you.”

“God, Finn,” Sean chokes. “I was so fucking scared. I thought I was going to end up just like my dad.”

“I would never let that happen, Sean. To the end and shit, right?”

Sean takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “To the end and shit.”

Finn helps Sean stand up and get back into the car, then climbs into the passenger seat next to him. He fishes out his phone, and Sean watches him pull up Instagram and delete the live video.

“Don’t you only have like, three followers on there?”

“Yeah,” Finn says with a smirk. “But he don’t know that.”

# # #

About an hour later, the rain has stopped completely. Sean isn’t really hungry anymore, but Finn forces him to eat a granola bar and drink a bottle of water. With some food in him, Sean does actually start to feel better, but it can’t stop the tremors in his hands.

Finn holds him tight that night while they sleep, and even though the love of his life is at his side—which Sean still can’t really believe is a thing—an unsteadiness permeates throughout him. He doesn’t sleep much.

Once the sun is out, Sean gets up for his morning cigarette, a bad habit he really should quit. But not today. After the night he’s had, he needs this smoke badly. He sits on the hood of his car and watches the sun rising over the trees. The smoke from his breath pollutes the morning sky like a smog, as if trying to blot out the sun and all the light it brings. Before long, Finn stirs from the passenger seats, and gets out to join Sean, taking a cigarette from the pack and hoisting himself up onto the hood.

“You’re up early,” Finn notices, flicking his lighter on.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Silence falls between them, filled occasionally by Finn’s smoker’s cough. This isn’t unusual for them, especially when Sean is in one of his moods. It’s not entirely an uncomfortable silence, as sometimes they don’t even need words to have a conversation. Finn knows Sean so well that it’s possible for them to speak with nothing more than facial expressions, body language, and the space between them.

Sean sits further away from Finn than usual, which is his way of letting Finn know he’s not in the mood to be touched. Finn learned this the hard way, when he once tried to comfort Sean after a panic attack by holding his hand, and Sean blew up at him. It’s not a moment Sean looks back on with any particular fondness.

After finishing his cigarette, Sean tries to go for another one, even though he really  _ knows _ he shouldn’t. But Finn notices him reaching for the pack and snatches it up before Sean can grab it.

That’s Finn, always looking out. Another unspoken conversation that says more than words ever could.

But sometimes, words are necessary.

“Finn,” Sean starts.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Finn says. “If you don’t want to, that is. I know your...thing with cops. It’s—there’s no shame in it.”

“No, I know that,” says Sean. “But I was just thinking…”

“So was I. I’m thinking, like,  _ all _ the time.”

Sean rolls his eyes and hits him in the shoulder, but he can’t help but smile. “C’mon, man, I’m trying to be serious.”

“I know, I know,” Finn laughs. “Sorry. What were you thinking about, my little philosopher?”

“Last night got me thinking about things that...that I’ve been pushing down, keeping in the back of my mind, for a very long time, and I…” Sean looks away. “Finn, I just can’t do this anymore.”

Finn is quiet for a second. “You—what? Wait, are you breaking up with me?”

Sean whips his head back around, and the panicked, hurt look on Finn’s face shatters his heart, so he quickly assures him, “No! No, definitely not. Never.” He smiles. “To the end and shit, right?”

Finn relaxes back onto the hood of the car and sighs, relieved.

“But no, I mean...I just mean, this. I’m sick of living out of my car. I’m sick of worrying about police thinking I’m up to something just for lingering around. I’m sick of barely scraping by. I want a house, Finn, a real home. I want someplace I can stay and not have to worry about where we’re going next. I want a job, a community, a fucking therapist. I can’t really have any of that on the road. I need to find someplace that I belong, a place to grow my roots, you know?”

Finn just blinks at him, so he goes on. “I know you love traveling, and both of our status as ex-cons makes it hard to find honest work anywhere, but—”

“Okay,” Finn interrupts.

“What?”

“I said ‘okay.’ You’re my fucking world, man. I’d follow you anywhere.”

A weight drops from Sean’s chest, like there was a string tugging at his heart that’s finally been cut, and it collapses like a marionette doll. “Cool,” Sean says. “That’s...that’s cool.”

Finn smiles and rolls his eyes. “Dork.” He pulls Sean close and kisses him deeply. And for just a second, everything feels perfectly in place.

For at least the moment, Sean is right where he belongs.

# # #

It’s one of those days, when the sun casts the world in a bright baby blue, and the sky is so still it looks like a painting, like Sean could reach out and touch the canvas, feel the brush strokes under his fingers. Sean has been drawn to paintings, recently. He and Finn have stopped at nearly every museum on the way to Oregon from New Jersey—at least, all the ones they could get into for free—and Sean’s been enamored with some of the paintings there. 

When they finally find a place and settle down, Sean makes a note to take up painting. If he has time, which he probably won’t, since he’s spending basically all of this month’s Patreon money on gas to travel literally all the way across the country, so he’ll have to put in the extra work. It’s times like these that make having two cars feel like a dumbass decision—sure, the extra space is nice, but they spend literally twice as much money on gas. Maybe they can find some place with public transport, and Sean can leave his car in the driveway unless he needs it.

But that’s...jumping ahead a bit. Sometimes Sean has to stop himself and remember that he and Finn have only been together for six months. It’s just...it feels like longer. Like  _ so _ much longer. Maybe it’s because, deep down, his heart has always belonged to Finn. From the moment they kissed when Sean was sixteen—literally half a lifetime ago—it was always him. He’s been mentally dating Finn for over sixteen years, it’s no wonder he feels so comfortable with him.

But real Finn is different from the Finn in Sean’s memories, the Finn he’d fantasized about all those years in prison. He’s messier—both physically and mentally—and he’s...stubbornly persistent. That’s not to say that he’s not as good as the one Sean cooked up in his brain, but it’s an adjustment to say the least. Dream Finn always said the right things, always knew exactly how to make him feel better, feel validated. Real Finn...he tries, Sean can tell that he tries. 

But Sean is a different person, too. He’s not the same wide-eyed, innocent kid that had his first kiss with a boy sitting by a fire and talking about fate. He’s a criminal, a convict.  _ Es un ladrón sucio con un ojo.  _ Sean has been broken and beaten down so many times, that he’s not sure if the person getting back up is still him.

And yet, even through all of that, Finn still loves him. And he still loves Finn. That love may have twisted and grown and transmogrified, but it’s still there, and it’s still them, and it’s still love.

To the end and shit, indeed.

Finn returns to the car from his pit stop and hops up onto the hood next to Sean. He lights up a cigarette, and offers Sean one from his pack, but Sean declines.

“Whoa, you’re refusing a smoke?” Finn says, blowing out a puff. “Are you okay? Are you sick? Did  _ chupacabras _ come from outer space and replace you with a devilishly handsome clone?” He holds the cigarette away from Sean and gets close up to his face. “The detail is exquisite. Why, you’re almost  _ more _ handsome as an alien clone.”

Sean laughs and pushes him away. “Nah, I’m fine. I just don’t wanna smell like smoke when we get to Daniel’s. He was never a fan of my smoking habits.”

“Yeah, but that was 17 years ago, my dude. For all you know, little Daniel’s picked up a nasty smoker’s cough. Maybe your super bro’s even a super stoner.”

“Haha, I doubt it. It may have been years since  _ you’ve _ seen him, but I saw him just a few months ago, before heading to Chicago. And he was very much about to rip the cigarette out of my hand when I started to spark up.”

“That’s our li’l cub.” Finn blows another puff out, away from Sean. “So what’s the plan when we get there? He knows we’re coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Sean says. “I texted him a few days ago, telling him we’d be in town and asked if he wanted to do anything for his birthday. We’re meeting up at his place for drinks and maybe we’ll Uber into town and try out this restaurant he’s been dying to take me to.”

Finn whistles. “Man, I know it’s been like, a lifetime since I’ve seen him, but trying to picture little baby Daniel tossing back shots is just crazy.”

“Yeah,” Sean laughs. “I have a hard time not thinking of him as the naïve little kid I took off with all those years ago. But nah, man, he’s all grown up now. It’s kinda sad, thinking about it.” Sean’s face falls. “I missed the most important years of his life. I missed his first kiss, his first school dance, his first breakup. He’s had  _ two _ graduations and I missed both of them. I…”

Sean hops off the hood of the car, shakes the thoughts out of his head. Finn finishes his cigarette and pushes himself up, tossing the butt on the ground and stomping it into the gravel before wrapping his arms around Sean. He’s so gentle, so soft, that Sean can’t help but bury his head in the crook of Finn’s neck.

“It’s okay, my little Sean,” says Finn. “You may have missed a lot of firsts, but I know you boys both have so much living left to do. And plenty of time to do it.”

“I guess,” Sean mopes. “I just hate knowing that he needed me, for fifteen years, and I wasn’t there for him…”

“You were there,” Finn says, “in all the ways that count.”

# # #

Daniel’s apartment looks hardly any different from the last time Sean saw it over six months ago. The kitchen sink is overflowing with dishes, but everything in the living room is neat and tidy, which makes sense; Daniel can easily clean up his apartment with his powers, but washing dishes takes a little bit more effort. Underneath his wall-mounted TV, on top of a little entertainment set sits his PlayBox (the newest model. They’ve come out with three new ones since Sean was arrested.  _ Three _ ), and his bedroom—which Sean can only see a bit of because his door is open—looks disheveled and lived-in. Very Daniel. 

Claire and Stephen are fronting him the rent until he’s making enough to afford it on his own—something they offered Sean in an effort to get him to stay in Oregon with them. After a few months on the road, Sean started regretting turning them down, but looking back now, he recognizes it was the right decision.

After all, leaving town is what brought him directly into Finn’s arms.

“Finn!”

Daniel may be a fully-fledged adult now, but his face still lights up like a child at Christmas upon seeing Finn. He practically tackles the man with a hug as he opens the door.

“Hey there little man,” Finn says, which is funny, because Daniel is now almost the same height as him. “It’s been a while.”

“Like twenty years almost,” Daniel says. “How come you never visited?”

Finn looks away. “Wasn’t sure if you’d...want to see me. Considerin’ what happened…”

Daniel puts his hands on Finn’s shoulders and gives him an easy smile. “Relax, Finn. I don’t blame you for anything. The heist was my decision, too.”

“Let’s not...talk about that right now,” Sean cuts in. “Happy birthday,  _ enano _ .”

Sean is next on the tackle-hug hit list, and it feels so good to hug his brother that he might actually cry. “Thanks, Sean.”

# # #

So Daniel is a whiskey drinker—who knew?

They end up forgoing the trip downtown for the night, because by the time dinner rolls around, all three of them are completely wasted. Sean has downed an entire six-pack of beer, Finn stuck to wine coolers most of the night, and Daniel went through the entire bottle of whiskey Stephen got him for his birthday. Thankfully, Daniel had the sense to propose that they  _ might _ be a bit too wasted for a night out on the town, and Sean is fine with that. Way fine. Especially since he’s already broken the seal and doesn’t wanna have to keep dragging them off-course to find a bathroom for him.

But also, it’s just nice to chill with him. When they saw each other over half a year ago, it was just a quick visit for Sean’s birthday, and it was spent almost entirely alongside Claire and Stephen. And not that his increasingly-elderly grandparents aren’t cool and all, but Sean and Daniel haven’t had much time  _ hermano-y-hermano _ since their camping trip two Falls ago, when Sean broke down crying, and Daniel held him in his arms and just let him. That was Sean’s lowest point, he thinks.

So getting to just toss back a few drinks and veg out to the latest Avengers movie (which Sean is royally confused about, having missed the last like, fifteen entries in the franchise) is bliss. It’s...normal. This is what normal brothers do.

But they’re not normal brothers, are they?

Whatever, man. It’s too drunk outside for this.

“God, dude, I’m so confused,” Sean blurts out. “So...so Hulk is a professor now? And where’s Thor? I get that Tony and Cap are gone now, but...”

“Thor’s with the Guardians of the Galaxy, dude,” Daniel says. “I thought you watched Endgame.”

Sean shakes his head. “Nah. We had movie nights in prison, but there was this one douchebag who always got picked to choose the movie—I think he was bribing the guards or something—so we would always watch  _ Casablanca _ . And it’s like...I get it, it’s a classic. But can we watch something made like, this millennium?”

Daniel takes another sip of his final glass of whiskey. “That’s zwank, dude.”

“Excuse me?  _ Zwank? _ What the fuck is a zwank?”

“It’s slang, sweetie,” Finn says. “It means lame, bogus, shitty.”

Sean downs the last of his beer and blinks at the TV. “God, I wish Captain America was in this movie, because I’m feeling like a man displaced in time right now.”

“You’ll catch up,” Daniel says.

“Maybe. I dunno. I’ve been out of prison for almost two years now and I just...don’t understand much about the world.”

Daniel sloppily throws his arm around Sean. “You got fifteen years to catch up on, dude. It’s gonna take time.” He pokes Sean in the chest. “But I believe in you. Wolf Brothers  _ forever _ , right, man?”

Sean smiles. “Hell yeah,” he says, returning Daniel’s awkward drunken hug. “But we’re more than just the Brothers now, dude. We got ourselves a whole pack!” He puts his other arm around Finn. He starts doing their signature howl, but Daniel cuts him off.

“Yeah, dude, maybe...maybe don’t...I got neighbors and it’s like midnight.”

“Right,” Sean says, face flushing. “Right, yeah. Sorry.”

Daniel pulls himself out of Sean’s reach and yawns. “Alright, bro. I think that’s my cue to turn in for the night. You guys good out here? You need more blankets or anything?”

“Nah,” Sean says. “I’m fine. Compared to sleeping in my car, this couch is a five-star hotel.”

“All good here, little man,” Finn adds.

“Cool,” Daniel says. He gets up and stretches, then rubs his eye. “Just like, don’t fuck on my couch, okay? I’d have to throw the whole thing out.”

Sean laughs. “Dude, I’m not gonna fuck on your couch. I wouldn’t fuck in your apartment at all, that’s weird.”

“Good. Okay, I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. G’night.”

“Night, bro.”

Daniel retreats into his bedroom, shutting off the TV and the lights in the living room on the way out. It is getting pretty late, so he and Finn should probably get to sleep, too. Still, Sean trudges into the kitchen for a glass of water—anything to help the killer hangover he’s gonna be feeling tomorrow—goes to the bathroom one last time, and returns to the couch to find Finn already sprawled out, covering the entire length of the couch, resting his head on one of the throw pillows. Thankfully, it seems there’s just enough room for one Sean-shaped person next to him. Alright, it’s been a while since he’s played little spoon, but he can dig it.

Finn instinctively wraps Sean in his arms as he climbs onto the couch, and kisses the top of his head, right below one of the scars he has from the explosion at Merrill’s. It’s only ever visible, really, when Sean’s head is shaved, which it is more often than not now. At least, most of his head is. Yeah, he decided to go back to the goofy-looking mohawk that Finn gave him back in Humboldt. Shut up, Finn says it’s sexy. Even if he does like to make fun of him for it, calling it “the Sean-hawk.”

Finn says Sean’s scars give him character. Sean knows he’s just saying that.

“Hey,” Finn whispers. His breath is hot against Sean’s ear. Sean shifts to signal that he’s awake and listening. “How come you never talk about prison?”

Sean hesitates. “What do you mean? I talk about prison all the time.”

“You talk about getting out of prison. You talk about how you feel disconnected after 15 years of prison. But you never actually talk about your time  _ in _ prison. Like, how have we been dating for six months and I never knew about  _ Casablanca _ guy?”

“I guess it just...wasn’t relevant. You don’t need to know everything about my life, Finn.”

“Yeah, I know,” Finn says. “But I want to know as much as I can, as much as you’re willing to tell me.”

“Well, I’m not willing to tell you anything right now.” It comes off snappier than Sean intended. Finn doesn’t say anything, and Sean starts to panic, so he adds, “Sorry, I just—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Finn interrupts, planting another kiss on the back of Sean’s head. “I’ll respect that. But...you know, someday...You might wanna talk about it, is all I’m sayin’. And I’m here for you when you do.”

“Thanks,” is all Sean can think of to say.

Finn grips him tighter, pulling Sean into his embrace. “To the end and shit,” he whispers.

Sean settles in beside him. “To the end and shit.”

# # #

When Sean said that sleeping on the couch would be better than sleeping in his car, he wasn’t fucking kidding. Despite waking up with the hangover of the century, last night was the most restful and serene sleep Sean has had in ages. Nuzzled up to Finn, his warm arms around him, as if protecting him, keeping all the bad dreams away.

Somehow managing to drag himself out of Finn’s embrace, Sean trudges to the kitchen and pours himself another glass of water. His head is  _ pounding _ , not aided by the fact that trying to focus on anything with his singular eye causes more strain on him. Daniel has to have Advil or something around here, right? He doesn’t wanna just go digging around his apartment, though, so he’s forced to endure it until Daniel wakes up.

Finn is fine. Like, he’s just fine. Absolutely unaffected by last night’s debauchery. Sean doesn’t know how he does it. It’s like Finn is immune to hangovers or something, and Sean hasn’t been this envious of somebody’s superpower since he learned Daniel could explode cops with his mind.

Thankfully, Finn’s cuddles help at least distract him from the axe splitting straight through his skull. Sean can feel Finn pressing against him as they spoon on the couch, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t consider going for a quickie while Daniel slept. But no, Sean promised Daniel they wouldn’t fuck on his couch. Besides, the thrill of potentially getting caught is only hot when the third party is  _ not _ a member of your own immediate family.

Just another thing Sean’s gotta endure for now.

Finally at around eleven, Daniel stumbles out of his bedroom, holding his head and groaning. It appears strong hangovers are a Diaz trait.

“Hey bro,” Sean says, getting up off the couch and following Daniel into the kitchen as he pours himself a glass of water.

“Stop yelling, dude.”

“I’m speaking in a normal voice…”

Daniel groggily waves him off, then downs his water in one gulp. He immediately fills it up again.

“Do you have any Tylenol or something?” Sean asks.

“Yeah,” Daniel croaks. “One sec.” He sets the glass down on the counter and disappears into the bathroom, and after a flush and the running of the sink, he reemerges carrying a small bottle of pills. He swallows one and washes it down with a sip of water, and Sean does the same.

“So,” Sean says. Then he says nothing, because there’s nothing inside his head for him to say. Nothing but the pounding of his brain against his skull.

Daniel tosses back the rest of his water like a dose of cough medicine, scrunching up his face from drinking too quickly. He wipes his mouth. “Sean, can I ask you something?”

Sean leans back against the wall. Daniel gets to work filling up another glass of water, and hands it to Sean. “Sure, buddy. What’s up?”

“Are we okay?”

Sean nearly does a spit-take. “What? Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“It’s just…” Daniel hops up on the kitchen counter and leans his head back against one of the cupboards. “I never thought we would become Birthday Brothers.”

“Birthday Brothers?”

“Sean, when was the last time we saw each other?”

“Um…” Sean takes a sip of water. It’s lukewarm. “Probably last August, when we met up with Claire and Stephen for my...oh.”

It clicks.

“Look, Sean, I know you’re doing your whole...journey of self-discovery thing, and I support you in that. But, shit, Sean. We saw more of each other when you were in prison.”

Sean winces. It hurts, but he knows it’s true. Daniel’s bi-monthly visits were one of the very few things keeping Sean going when he was in prison—the others being his court-appointed therapist, the new sketchbooks Daniel got him every month, and his buddy-by-circumstance Kai. But now, they see each other maybe two or three times a year, at most. And sure, they text occasionally, but it’s infrequent, and usually unsubstantial; a lot of “Hey, just checking in” and “Here’s a meme that made me think of you.”

“I just want to know if...if it’s me. Did I drive you away? Was I...not worth staying for?”

“What? No, dude, of course that’s not...Shit.” Realization dawns on him, and he can’t even believe he’s capable of such stupidness. “I Karened you.”

It takes a second for it to click, but Daniel seems to get it. Sean pushes himself off the wall.

“Everything you’re feeling right now, that...inadequacy. That’s how I felt when Mom left. And I…” He throws his hands up, scoffs at himself, and turns away. “I did the same fucking thing to you. I’m so sorry,  _ enano _ . I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t good enough.”

Daniel hops off the counter and puts his hand on Sean’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Sean. I’m sorry for making you feel bad about looking for yourself. Again.”

“What are you talking about?” Sean turns back around and faces his brother, whose expression is stern but gentle.

“You were always putting your needs after mine, sacrificing bits of yourself to make sure I was safe. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you how much I appreciate that, but I do. But at the same time...I don’t like knowing that I’m the reason you feel so lost today.”

“You’re not,” Sean says. “I made my decisions, and I don’t regret them. Yeah, prison sucked. It sucked  _ hardcore _ . But I got through it. I have my freedom now, and I’ve  _ earned _ it. Maybe my life would be better if we’d crossed the border that day. Maybe it wouldn’t. It doesn’t matter, because I can’t change the past. I’m happy that my decisions gave you a normal life, Daniel. This is just...finally making a decision for myself. I promise it has nothing to do with you.”

Daniel nods, and Sean can tell he doesn’t quite believe him, but he doesn’t say so. He smiles at Sean, and wraps his big brother in a hug. “Okay,” he says. “I love you, bro.”

Sean squeezes back. “I love you, too.”

# # #

The rest of the day goes swimmingly. Once their hangovers ease up, Daniel takes them downtown and they spend some time checking out museums, bookstores, and finally getting to eat at that restaurant Daniel loves. The food is nothing all that special, but Sean enjoys being a part of it, being a part of Daniel’s life, getting to experience the things that he does.

He’s really, really missed this.

It’s like his decision is being made for him. This is where he wants to stay.

As Daniel leads them through the streets of downtown Portland, Sean’s smile never leaves his face. He follows his younger brother closely, and it feels almost like a role reversal. For almost an entire year when they were kids, Daniel followed Sean, followed him down the west coast, through hardship and heartache, thick and thin. Now, in a decidedly more mundane fashion, Sean is following him.

When did Daniel become the big brother?

It’s kinda nice, actually, being able to let go of that responsibility. One of the hardest parts about making his decision to leave was not knowing whether Daniel would be okay without him. He’d gone fifteen years without him, but they were still together, even if they were far apart. When he left, though, he was basically going off-grid, and it was anyone’s guess when they would see each other next. So it’s actually kind of a relief knowing that Daniel is doing fine without him, even if the thought stings just a little.

Eventually, they end up at a park, watching a family of ducks swim around in a pond. It reminds Sean of a time when he was little, before Daniel was even born, when Karen used to take him to a park just like this one, and he would throw bread crumbs to the ducks, laughing wildly as they would come up and peck at them, but crying when they approached him for more.

Sean knows now that breadcrumbs are pretty bad for ducks, so he sort of looks back on that memory and cringes, but it’s still a time he holds fondly. It’s funny how memory works like that sometimes.

After a bit, Daniel goes off to find the park restroom, and Sean uses the opportunity to say something that’s been on his mind all afternoon. He slides closer to Finn on the bench they’ve been sitting at.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

Finn just shrugs, and Sean can’t help but feel like something’s a little off. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“ _ It _ . You know, like...you’re acting weird.”

“You’re acting weird.”

Sean rolls his eyes. “Finn, come on. It’s me. What’s wrong?”

He shrugs. “Just...thinkin’ about our conversation from last night.”

Sean hangs his head. Of course he is. Finn’s right—Sean hasn’t been the most open person in the world, even after they started dating. But being called out on it means acknowledging it, acknowledging that maybe he’s more fucked up than he lets himself believe. 

“I’m sorry,” Sean says without thinking.

“Dude, Sean, it’s okay. I’m not…” Finn trails off. “You’re right to be secretive. I get it, man. But I can see you’re holdin’ so much pain inside, and that kills me. I just want you to open up.”

Sean shuffles his feet on the concrete path on which the bench sits, feeling the gravel scratch against the soles of his shoes like sandpaper. “I’m just not ready, Finn...I don’t know if I ever will be.”

Finn closes the distance between them, and Sean instinctively flinches away, not in the mood to be touched. Finn recognizes this and scooches back. “You will be. One day. I believe in you, my little Sean.”

“But what if I’m not? What if...What if I never want to talk about it? Will you be okay with that? Will you...will you still love me?” The last words escape him like the last gasp of air from his lungs, falling harsh and quiet between the trees.

Finn hesitates. “O-of course I will. Are you kiddin’? To the—”

“Yeah, I know. ‘To the end and shit.’ I get it, you say that all the fucking time, but do you even really mean it?”

“What? How could you even think—”

But just then, Sean notices Daniel walking back towards them, and he can tell by the look on his face that he already suspects something’s up. Sean forces a smile at him.

“I don’t want to do this right now,” Sean says. “Not in front of Daniel.”

Finn pauses, takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“You guys alright?” Daniel asks, approaching them on the bench.

Sean chances a glance over at Finn. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I dunno, you guys just seemed a little—”

But Finn’s not having it. Before Daniel can finish his sentence, he jumps up and throws his arm around Daniel’s shoulder. “We’re fine, my man. What’s next on the birthday weekend agenda?”

Daniel’s face shows doubt for just a second, before he lets it go and it’s replaced with a cheerful, carefree grin. “Oh man, I wanted to show you guys this awesome arcade downtown! It’s only a few minutes away.”

“Well what are ya waiting for, little dude? Lead the way!”

Daniel starts heading off in the direction of the arcade, and Finn follows him, arm still wrapped around his shoulder. Sean takes just a second to watch the two of them, before Finn looks back at him, with something in his eyes Sean can’t decipher. He smiles over at them, before getting up off the bench and chasing after them.

Sean is going to make this the best fucking birthday weekend Daniel’s ever had, even if it kills him.

# # #

Things seem to go back to normal after that, and the three of them spend the rest of the day laughing and having fun as they usually would. But Finn is quieter than his usual self, and Sean can tell he’s hurt. He’s being less touchy-feely than he often is, and when he thinks Sean isn’t looking, he lets his face fall, his characteristic easy smile fading into a sunken frown.

By the time they get back to Daniel’s, it’s already dark. Daniel offers to let them have the couch again, but Sean knows he’s got to go to work in the morning, so he declines. If Sean had more money on him, he would try and find him and Finn a hotel to stay in tonight, but they used up basically all of their cash on fuel getting over here. So instead, he and Finn drive over to a campground, and it’s a nice night out, so Sean starts to pull out his sleeping bag to spend a night under the stars.

But Finn hasn’t gotten out of his car yet, so Sean goes over and taps on the passenger window. Finn looks up, shaken from his thoughts, and unlocks the door.

“Hey,” he says, stepping inside past old beer cans and candy wrappers and sitting in the seat next to Finn’s.

“Hey.”

And Sean can’t think of anything to say right now, so an awkward silence falls between the two of them. It’s weird. Usually their silences aren’t awkward. But Sean just...can’t find the words. If he’s being honest, he can’t even find the coherent thoughts he wants to express.

“Sean, I’m sorry about today. And yesterday. I swear I don’t mean to push you.”

Sean kicks at a can at his feet, crunching it beneath his shoe. Finn’s car smells like cheap beer and weed, a scent Sean has come to enjoy, but still assaults his nose every time he’s in here.

“I know, Finn,” Sean says. “It’s just...You’re always trying to come to my rescue, always trying to save me. But...what if I don’t want to be saved? What if...what if I’m fine with the way that I am, and I don’t need you trying to change me?”

“Change you? I’m not…” But he trails off.

Even as Sean says it, he knows he doesn’t mean it. At least, he thinks he doesn’t. He is grateful to Finn for the whole deal with the cop recently, but he’s pushing him in a direction he’s not comfortable going. Right? He’s spent so much time, half of his fucking life, closing himself off as a way of protection—in prison, the less people knew about you, the better—but now that he can, now that he’s  _ free _ , he can’t. He just can’t...He’s scared. Scared of opening up, scared to lose Finn, scared that the person he really is isn’t the person that Finn is in love with.

Sean looks down at the sleeping bag in his lap, squeezes it in his hands, the polyester fabric tickling his fingertips.

“Dude, are...are you mad at me?” he asks.

Finn looks over at him, his expression wide and concerned. “Sean, of course not.”

“Okay, well…” Sean can feel his pulse rising again. “You’ve been really quiet today. And I’ve...I’ve never really seen you quiet. And it occurred to me that I’ve never really seen you get mad, either, so I guess I just...connected the two. Thought maybe you were one of those people who gets really quiet when he’s angry.”

Finn shakes his head. “Why would I even be mad at you? You ain’t done nothin’.”

Sean shrugs. “My little...freakout earlier today?”

“No, honey, that was my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you...If you ain’t ready to talk, you ain’t ready to talk. ‘Snot my place to say otherwise. I’m real sorry, Sean.”

Sean nods by way of accepting. See, it’s funny. Sean can apologize until the cows come home, but when it comes to accepting apologies, he’s not so great at it. At verbalizing it, at least. Part of it is probably his own feelings of inadequacy, the feeling that  _ he’s _ the one who should be apologizing, that he’s always the one to blame. That’s something Sean definitely plans on bringing up with a therapist, whenever he can actually get one.

“Finn,” he says. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?” Finn responds. “Me too. Too much, actually. It’s starin’ to make my brain hurt.”

Sean buries his face in his rolled-up sleeping bag. “ _ Uuuuuuugh _ ,” he laughs. How is it that even when things seem to be at their bleakest, Finn can  _ always _ make him smile?

There are so many things that Sean loves about Finnegan McNamara, but that’s probably the thing he loves most.

“But for real, what were you thinkin’ about?”

“I know we haven’t...really talked about it. The move. Where we want to go, but...I think I’ve made up my mind, at least.”

“Yeah?”

Sean nods. “I want to stay here.”

“In Portland? Sweetie, it’s a little expensive for us.”

“Not necessarily Portland, just...in Oregon. Somewhere closeby to Daniel. I know that’s not really fair to you, that I get to be near my family but your brothers are all down in California.”

“Pfft,” Finn scoffs. “Please, I’m a big boy now, Sean. And my bros can take care of themselves.” He reaches over, his hand hovering over Sean’s, until Sean nods and Finn interlaces their fingers together. “And you know, so can Daniel. He don’t need his big bro to look after him anymore.”

Sean sighs, looking down. “Yeah, I know, but—”

“But you need him,” Finn finishes.

“Huh?”

“Sean, I saw the way you were actin’ with your brother today. I ain’t never seen you smile so much in the six months we been dating. Daniel may not need you to take care of him anymore, but I think you need him. Not in a bad way, neither. Like, I got no doubt that you would be just fine without him. But he brings out the best in you. I can see it written all over your face.”

“Yeah,” Sean says, smiling bashfully. “Yeah, I think you’re right. But...are you sure it’s okay? I know your brothers...mean a lot to you.”

Finn shrugs. “Like I said, they can take care of themselves. And so can I. I’m not the one who needs his family right now.”

“I guess.”

“Hey,” says Finn, and Sean turns his head to see Finn’s eyes, deadly serious. “I love you.”

Sean’s gut wrenches. It’s not the first time Finn has said those words, obviously. But in the six months they’ve been dating, they’ve only said that to each other maybe a dozen times. Perhaps a Baker’s dozen. Usually they replace it with,  _ to the end and shit _ , and it serves the same purpose. But it has the effect of giving more weight to the l-word.  _ To the end and shit _ is a peck on the cheek, a good night kiss, but  _ I love you _ is special, intimate, like a long, slow kiss, the kind where they meld together.

The fact Finn is pulling this out now is just proof. Proof of how much he really cares, how he’s in this for the long haul. Somehow,  _ I love you _ also means  _ To the end and shit. _

“I love you too, Finn.”

Finn smiles at him, in that way he does when he wants Sean to kiss him. Sean knows he probably wants to do it himself, but sometimes, Sean has to take the initiative. So that’s exactly what he does. He leans in and presses his lips against Finn’s, the familiar taste exciting his tongue as it slides between Finn’s teeth. Finn kisses back, deeply, passionately, gently holding Sean’s head in his hands, like cradling a newborn child.

They kiss like that for what feels like hours, before finally, Sean needs to come back up for air. He breaks the kiss and takes in a huge gasp of air, then finally rests his forehead against Finn’s, letting out a small, satisfied laugh.

# # #

Sleeping under the stars is always so much better with someone else. Though Sean and Finn hardly do any sleeping tonight, if you catch the drift. After their third time (Finn’s stamina  _ never _ fails to impress the hell out of Sean), Sean is finally exhausted enough to fall asleep, so he rolls back over and, breathlessly, climbs back into his sleeping bag. He lets a laugh overtake him as he slides his bag over to Finn’s, leaning over and giving him one last kiss goodnight.

But even still, he can’t sleep. Or well, more like he doesn’t want to sleep, even though he can feel his consciousness starting to wane, like a slow fade at the end of a really great song. Finn seems to be awake, too, because Sean can hear him shuffling around in his sleeping bag, probably trying to slip his pants back on. He looks over at him, and their eyes meet. Finn smiles that smile Sean loves so much, and Sean can’t help but kiss him again.

“What’s up?” Finn asks.

“Nothing but the stars above us.”

Finn rolls his eyes affectionately. “My little poet.”

“Pfft. Yeah, no. I’m not so great with words. I…” Sean pauses. Finn looks on, waiting. Then, shaking his head, like he’s trying to wring the thoughts from his brain, Sean takes a deep breath and continues. “I tried my hand at it in prison—”

“Sean, we don’t—”

“No, it’s okay.” Sean smiles, like actually smiles. “Really. I...I want to share. I love you, Finn. So fucking much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Heat floods his cheeks as he realizes how that could have sounded. But, well, it’s true. “I want to share everything with you. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly…”

“Sweetie, there ain’t an ugly bone in your body.”

Sean laughs dryly. “Yeah, okay. But really...Finn, you’re...my everything. I want to know all about your life—all that shit with your dad, your brothers, your time with Cass and Hannah. I want to know your whole story, and...and I want to tell you mine.”

Finn scoots closer. He unzips his sleeping bag and pulls Sean’s close to his, wrapping Sean in his arms. “Okay. Well then, tell me a bedtime story.”

“Haha. I can’t promise it’ll be the next  _ Shawshank Redemption. _ ”

“ _ Sean-shank Redemption _ ,” Finn laughs to himself. “Anyway, continue.”

Finn’s arms around him make Sean feel warm and safe. He nuzzles up to him, though it’s a bit awkward with his sleeping bag the way it is, so he unzips it and curls up in Finn’s embrace. “Seriously, I did say I was bad with words…”

“ _ Tell me a bedtime story, damn it.” _

Hard to argue with that. Sean laughs.

“Once upon a time… in a wild… wild world…” 


End file.
